


котенок

by Luna Draconis (LunaDraconis)



Category: Marvel Cinematic Universe, The Avengers (Marvel Movies), The Avengers (Marvel) - All Media Types
Genre: #Mwahahaha, F/M, Fluff, Heart, Heartbeat Kink, Heartbeats, Possible Character Death, Possible smut, Read at Your Own Risk, She's gonna hate me, for my friend, so many feels
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-09-12
Updated: 2016-09-12
Packaged: 2018-08-14 17:22:35
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 2,411
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8022538
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/LunaDraconis/pseuds/Luna%20Draconis
Summary: She's had a thing for Barnes... but can she tell him before she loses him?





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

  * For [thebeatoftheirhearts](https://archiveofourown.org/users/thebeatoftheirhearts/gifts), [preciouslittlecinnamonbuns](https://archiveofourown.org/users/preciouslittlecinnamonbuns/gifts).



> This was at the request of a dear friend.... please excuse the sounds of her dying (and then coming to kill me). Mwahahahaha.

I took another swing at the bag, not noticing that blood was now dripping down my hands. I pulled back for the next punch, only to have my wrist caught in an icy vise. I turned to find Barnes behind me, my wrist in his metal hand, and his expression carefully schooled into neutrality. 

“What d’you want, Barnes?” I asked, trying to pull my hand from his. 

As the newest addition to the Avengers team, it was taking some time to get used to people being strong enough to match me, even beat me, in matters of strength. You wouldn’t think it… I’m on the shorter side, female, and I look like an innocent sweetheart who would never do anything… and then you find out that I can shapeshift and now am one of the Avengers. When I was younger, we found out about my ability when we were at the lake. In my defense, what little girl _didn’t_ want to be a mermaid? The tail had freaked out my parents, but they’d kept it under wraps, even as my gift grew, though they kicked me out the second I turned 18. Literally on my birthday. The strength had come with the shifting, and I guessed it was something about body density and the ability to change size and shape. It’s easy to be a dense small creature, but an almost diffused elephant just doesn’t work right…. But I wasn't positive that was it. Still, with all of that power, all of that muscular tissue, I couldn’t pull my arm away from Barnes. 

I sighed. “What the hell do you want?” I asked, leaving my hand listlessly in his, not seeing the point in trying to pull away. I’d learned all about exercises in futility while I lived in the shelters.

His eyes flitted to my hand, and for the first time I saw my knuckles. I’d wrapped my hands diligently, but I hadn’t paid attention to them, and after… how long had I been working the bag? I glanced at the clock, surprised to see I’d been there for over an hour, and I hadn’t been taking breaks. Even competitive boxers only work the bag for about half an hour, but with my body’s ability to heal quickly, I hadn’t noticed. I was going to have to eat a huge meal to replenish my battered body. And to apologize... I’d been pretty rough with it.

“Come, котенок, we will get you cleaned up.” He murmured, pulling me toward the first aid kit. I could have protested – after all, I heal quickly – but something about how he said it made it feel like this was something he was used to doing, and he found it soothing.

However, “I’m not a… a ke-tea-oh-knock. I don’t know what that is, but I can guarantee I’m not one.”

He was turned away from me as he led me toward the nearest first aid kit (the Tower was littered with them), but I could see the corner of his mouth twitching in amusement. _Whatever a котенок is, it’s probably not a good thing._

“If you say so… котенок.” He grumbled, the hint of a smile taking any sting out of his words.

He grabbed a nearby chair, setting it next to the wall-mounted first aid kit, not once letting go of my hand, the metal slowly warming against my skin. He pulled me in front of the chair, then released my wrist to gently (but firmly) press on my shoulders until I begrudgingly sat down. “You could just call me Em, you know. Everyone else does.”

He ignored me, looking through the first aid kit for the things he needed. He shuffled through the kit, mumbling to himself in Russian, as I waited patiently. That surprised me; I wasn’t a particularly patient woman most of the time. 

When he had all his supplies lined up, he took my hand back in his, and carefully cut the wrap off. My skin looked angry and raw, and wasn’t healing quickly like it normally did… probably because I’d been up the last few nights, pissed off about the last mission, and hadn’t eaten or slept much, both of which were crucial to my abilities. I could consciously force healing in this state, but it’d be more taxing than usual, when it’d happen automatically and make no noticeable difference to my energy levels.

I hissed as he cleaned the wound, trying to pull away in spite of myself. No matter how much experience I get dealing with pain, cleaning a wound always hurts like the dickens. He waited silently, his ice-blue eyes taking in every detail.

It made me nervous, him watching me like that. “What, never seen my snake impression before?” I tried to snap at him. He lit up from the inside, and it suddenly occurred to me that this was probably how he’d taken care of Steve when they were younger. He would come to help, Steve would put on a brave face… There was even a smile on his face now, small as it was.

I could feel my cheeks warming. Unable to control the blush, I coughed, and asked for something to drink. Bucky got up with a little pep in his step, happy to help. In the meantime, I tried to convince my body that it needed to shut this whole situation down. Recently, I’d been… distracted… by Bucky. Barnes, I mean. I corrected myself, trying to keep some distance. At first I’d thought he was cold (pardon the pun), but after a while, I realized that he just had an emotional wall up for his own protection. And behind that wall, was the softest little puffball that ever lived. In fact, if I asked on a down day, he probably would let me French braid his hair. I was still gathering the courage to ask… Once I’d made that realization, it’d been all downhill from there. He kept to himself, because he didn’t want to underestimate his own strength and hurt someone. He did small things around the Tower to make peoples’ days easier… but only things they wouldn’t notice; moving keys from between the couch cushions onto the kitchen counter, moving the end table over a couple inches so that people would stop banging their toes on it, making sure that the first aid kits were stocked. The butterflies started up in my stomach again, and as much as I tried, I couldn’t digest the little bastards and move on with my life. It certainly didn’t help that he seemed completely unruffled in any situation. His heartbeat was startlingly low, and I’d found myself staring at it on the shuttles back from missions. Even when it was in stress mode, I’d yet to see his heartbeat rise above 70 bpm, which was lower than many peoples’ resting rate. 

And just like that, he was back with my drink, his eyes analyzing again. I flushed harder, whatever small amount of progress in calming down gone in a flash.

He handed it to me, letting me hold it in my left hand as he continued working on my right. I sipped in silence, counting the number of Band-Aids I could see in the box to keep my mind off _him_. When he finished wrapping my knuckles in a specialty gauze, I gingerly transferred the cup to that hand, letting him disinfect my left hand now. When I hissed again, he carefully kept his eyes down, but I could see the sly little grin that crept over his face before he got it locked down again. 

I took the opportunity to watch him, seeing the intensity of his gaze, watching the calculated movements he made as he tried not to hurt me. My eyes strayed to his neck, surprised to find his pulse slightly elevated (for him) to 40 bpm. My own heart stuttered in response. There was something so soothing, so fascinating, so... _beautiful_ about that slow, steady rhythm. _I wonder why his heart’s beating fast…er._

He wrapped my left hand with the same amount of tender care that he’d shown my right, gently running one thumb over the back of my hand. _Maybe… maybe he was just… making sure everything was lying right?_ Even I wasn’t convinced.

Our eyes met, and suddenly I couldn’t look away. _What-do-I-do, what-do-I-do, what-do-I-do…_ “So what _exactly_ does ‘ke-tea-oh-knock’ mean?” I tried to snap at him, but there was a faint tremble in my voice. My hand was still cradled between his, that thumb stroking back and forth over the back of my hand.

His head cocked to one side. “Kitten.” He stated, matter-of-factly. 

My jaw dropped. Then my spine straightened as I rose to the challenge. _You want a kitten? I’ll show you a kitten._

One moment, I was human, the next, tiger. The gauze did what it’d been designed to do, expanding to fit my new shape. It’d been originally created for the Hulk, but I was a bit more breakable.

I roared at Bucky, glittering fangs inches from his face. My frustration and power awe-inspiring, my guise terrifying, my-

He petted me.

He just raised one hand – his _human_ one – and petted me.

 _Can he do that? I don’t think he can do that…_ I pushed up onto my back legs, bringing my front paws onto his shoulders, and damned if he didn’t stay standing. Not only that, he patted one of my forearms. 

I was still standing there, bemused, when the bomb went off.

* * *

It felt like I’d been hit by a train, dragged behind it for a few miles, then eaten by a bear. I raised my head, trying to put everything together. I was alright, surprisingly. My body had healed enough to keep me alive, pushing shrapnel out to repair the heavy damage. It felt like there was a support beam against my back, but luckily it wasn’t crushing me. I looked back at it.

 _That’s… that’s not a support beam._

Bucky’s arm was around my waist, braced between some rubble and the floor, holding it away from my body. I followed the line of his arm, and for the first time realized what – or rather, whom – I’d been lying on.

“B-“ I coughed. “Bucky?” I raised a once-again human hand, which had healed in the shifts from human to tiger and back again. I brushed the hair away from his face, trying to see if he was still- _No. He’s just unconscious. He has to be._

I laid my head against his chest, waiting, ignoring the pounding of my own heart…

_Where is it? Where is it? Oh, god, where is i-_

Thump.

I could cry. There was the heartbeat. Not as strong as I would have liked, but it was there.

Thump.

“That’s right, sweetheart.”

Thump.

“Just hold on.”

Thump.

“They’ll come find us.”

Th-thump.

The hesitation in his heartbeat made my breath catch. I squeezed back tears.

“Bucky, hold on.”

Thump.

“Just hold on.” My body was shaking, exhaustion taking its’ toll.

Th-thump.

“You can’t leave me.”

Th-thump.

“Dammit, Bucky, I love you. So hang on!” The tears were rolling down my face, but I paid them no mind. I had something, or rather, someone, more important to focus on.

Th-thump.

“I’m here… your little ke-tea-oh-knock… Stay-“

Th-thump.

“Stay with me.”

Th… thump.

“Stay with me!”

And then there was silence. Despair and exhaustion dragged me down into the darkness.


	2. Chapter 2

Beep…beep…beep…beep… was all I heard. I finally opened my eyes. “Where…” I looked around. Avengers’ Tower Medbay. I was safe… but where was- “Bucky?” My eyes filled with tears again. _Oh… god… Bucky._

The tears rolled down my cheeks. I heard the door to my room open, but I didn’t want to talk to anyone. _I... I lost him. I didn’t even get to tell him…_

“You’re going to get dehydrated, котенок”

My eyes shot open. “Bucky?”

He shuffled his feet, looking rather sheepish. “I meant to be here when you woke up… I’ve been waiting.”

“You were- Wait, how long was I out?”

“A week. You hadn’t eaten in a while, plus the trauma…” His expression darkened. “And J.A.R.V.I.S. says you haven’t been sleeping well.” 

I squirmed under his gaze. “Yeah, well… that happens. What do you want me to do about it?” 

He went into full-on big-brother mode. “You should eat regularly. And you should find something that helps you sleep, like a pattern-“

“I’ve tried everything!” I burst out, cutting him off. I sat up in bed to argue with him. “And who are you to tell me what to do? It’s my life, and-“

“I’m not going to lose you!” 

We stared at each other. The heart rate monitor beeping still – faster, now.

“What did you say?” I tried.

His eyes dropped, his hair falling forward to shield his face. He took a deep breath, then straightened, pushing his hair back. “I’ve been here, every day for the past week, praying that you’d wake up. I… I haven’t prayed in years, but… I didn’t know what else to do.” I could see it was hard for him to keep eye contact, but he was managing it. “Every day, коте- Em.” He drew in a shuddering breath. “Every day, I pleaded for your life.”

The mere effort of sitting up was taking a toll; I wobbled a bit, and he pressed me back onto the bed. As soon as he stepped back to grab a chair I sat back up again. What? I’m stubborn. And it’s hard to have a serious conversation from your back.

He frowned, pressing me back again, but as he stepped back, I started to get up again. He sighed, then climbed carefully in next to me, even though I was healed but for a few scratches. I turned, so that I could look at him, but he pulled my head down, resting it on his chest, his arm around my shoulder. I was about to push off again, when I realized I could hear his heart, beating strong and steadily again.

I relaxed into him, enjoying the scent of fresh laundry, men’s deodorant, the slight tang of metal, and the subtle scent of _him_.

“I prayed, because…” Thump “you had to live…” Thump “so that I could tell you…” Thump “that I….” Thump “Um…” Thump... Then darkness claimed me once again.


End file.
